


Gives it Meaning

by cassiejamie



Category: Valentine's Day - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-18
Updated: 2010-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiejamie/pseuds/cassiejamie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd needed Holden, needed him to understand how much Sean loved him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gives it Meaning

. one .

Holden had been waiting in line at the taxi counter, listening to a small boy scream and fling himself against the floor, when the television behind the counter had caught his eye.

He and Sean hadn't seen or spoke to each other in several weeks; Holden had headed to his parents' vacation residence in France after their breakup, choosing to lay low in the countryside rather than have to deal with seeing Sean on every television in the tri-state area. He was unsurprised, at first, to see that his assumption had been right – the media had always had a significant interest in Sean – then the program changed to a press conference.

It didn't take more than a minute for him to recognize Kara, blackberry in hand as usual, and then to zero in on Sean. He looked tired, a little bit less enthusiastic than was typical; Holden forced himself to look away, moving up in the line and out of the sight of the television.

Moving, however, had put him within a strained earshot and his throat caught as he heard Sean's words.

Holden mumbled an apology to the gentleman he pushed out of his way, eyes locked on the screen even as another worker told him to remain in line. He heard nothing, all of his attention on the words now scrolling across the screen over a freeze-framed screengrab of Sean and Kara at the podium, the talking head on ESPN asking questions of the team manager.

"Sir?"

Holden looked over at the annoyed woman, glanced at the other customers in the line now staring at him. Chuckling nervously, he gave her a somewhat deprecating half-smile, saying, "Sorry," and returned to his place behind the stanchions.

. two .

There was a florist shop on the way that he paid the taxi driver extra to stop at, grateful that it was still open. He didn't need an arrangement or a bouquet or any of that drivel, just a couple of whatever flowers were sitting around, but the girl at the desk argued with him when he said as much.

"There a problem, Nikki?" Reed asked as he came through the door to the storeroom, then looked to the customer and laughed. "Oh, man, you look like _hell_."

"Where as you look like sunshine yourself," Holden shot back. "Listen, I only need like a stem of something yellow. That's it. I'll pay you whatever you want for it."

Reed eyed his cousin. "This about Sean?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Holden sighed and nodded, replying, "Yeah," and knowing he would get an earful about it – Reed had been ready to go after Sean when he'd heard of the breakup and had been quite vocal in his dislike ever since.

"You know I'm gonna punch him in the nuts the next time I see him, right?"

"I know," Holden said with a laugh. He expected no less from Reed, a late-twenties florist with no upper body strength to speak of, than to try to take down Sean, a thirty-five year old quarterback who could snap Reed like a twig.

Reed nodded, satisfied Holden understood and disappeared into the back room; when he returned a moment later it was with a decent sized stem of yellow flowers, soft and only just starting to wilt. He didn't reach for the paper or the cellophane, instead handing it over to Holden, saying, "Go save your boyfriend from himself."

"Thanks... I owe you one."

Holden raced back to the taxi, clutching the flower in his hand as the sedan took off and he headed for home.

. three .

It was so late that Holden knew Sean would be asleep, though he hadn't expected to find the man passed out in a chair in the living room – one of the chairs he'd always complained were uncomfortable, but he'd bought because Holden had liked and wanted the – and he debated waking Sean for all of a second.

Then Holden grinned gently and ran the petals of the flowers over Sean's cheek.

Sean started, rubbing his face over the ghostly sensation, and opened his eyes; he kept his gaze on Holden as he shifted in the chair as Holden's hand threaded through his hair, and said, "You saw."

"Yeah."

Sean relaxed finally and the tension he'd carried for weeks eased. He'd been under so much pressure for so long... he'd needed Holden, needed him to understand how much Sean loved him, and Sean had managed to get the message to him.

"You look tired," Holden remarked.

His mouth was so close, Sean could feel Holden's breath on his lips. He'd missed that mouth, missed the feel of Holden under him and around him, and missed the scent of him. Sean had slept in their bed most nights (he wasn't some simpering codependent reject), but once the sheets had been changed and Holden's smell had gone, Sean hadn't slept as well.

So there was no soul on earth who could have blamed him for leaning in, pulling Holden close, kissing him, happy beyond words that Holden was there.

"Sean," Holden whispered when they parted, "Come to bed."

Sean didn't need to be told twice and he followed Holden to their bed in silence, unable to stop touching as they went – fingers brushed over shoulders, flanks, hands. Sean very nearly tripped them both as they ascended the stairs; he caught Holden as the man fell backward and flipped them, pressing Holden's back into the stairwell wall.

"Where'd you go?" Sean asked, pushing his chest into Holden's and placing kisses to his neck. One hand lifted from its place on Holden's hip to rest on his neck; Sean was worrying Holden's throat so perfectly that Holden knew there there would be a mark there later.

"France." Holden tilted his head, giving Sean more skin to nip at. "My parents' vacation house in Bordeaux... couple of days in Paris."

For a moment, hurt bloomed in Sean's chest as he thought of the promise Holden had made him months ago – to not go off to Bordeaux without Sean the next time he decided to go – and realized how much they'd hurt each other those last few months. Holden never broke his promises, not unless he figured they wouldn't be missed.

Sean sighed and traced Holden's lips. "Got a lot of things to make up for, huh?"

Holden nodded, replying, "We both do, but we'll figure it out."

. four .

Sean woke first, unsurprised to find Holden's face buried in the pillow, sheet pulled low over Holden's hips: it was the perfect tableau of skin.

He grinned, moving until he was on hands and knees over Holden.

Sean knew Holden wouldn't appreciate being woken after a fourteen hour flight, that he'd grouse about jetlag and hunger, but Sean needed this. Slowly, he settled himself onto Holden's back, cock in the cleft of Holden's ass, and nipped at the nape of his boyfriend's neck.

"Mmm, mornin'," Holden mumbled as he came awake minutes later and jumped when Sean licked at just the right spot behind Holden's ear. "God, Sean..."

"Please," Sean whispered, grinding his hips into Holden.

Holden smiled over his shoulder, and nodded, stretching out until he was comfortable with his legs wide; Holden stuffed a pillow under his hips before crossing his arms under his head and wiggling against Sean. "Come on," he prodded when Sean didn't move, "Baby, you awake?"

That got Sean's attention. "Admiring the view," he growled, pushing Holden's knees farther apart with his own and reaching for the lube they'd dropped over the side of the bed the night before.

Holden was still pretty slick, but Sean still took his time, sliding two fingers into Holden and teasing him with them; Sean always had loved the noises Holden made when he was riled, the grunts and the groans and how Holden would inevitably start to push back. How he'd grumble for more and clutch at the blankets.

Two fingers turned to three and Sean pulled his hand free when Holden told him, "Fuck me, Sean," and knelt up.

Which was when it hit him: he might never of had _this_, could have lost it by being a fucking moron. He knew now that he hadn't needed to go so far as to come up on national TV just to get Holden back, but Sean didn't regret it and it had gotten Holden to come home.

He sucked in a breath, pushing those thoughts away and turning his attention back to Holden who was looking back at him with questions in his eyes. Sean gave him the best half-smirk he could, grasped his cock and snubbed the head against Holden's ass; it was gentle, somewhat unlike Sean, but Holden didn't have time to think about what that meant.

Sean thrust forward, one perfect slide into Holden that left him shaking as he held onto Holden's flanks. The urge to come was only just overridden by the need to hear all the noises Holden could make, feel how Holden writhed and moved under him, and he started to thrust.

"_Fuck_, Sean," Holden ground out, fingers tangling into the pillowcase. He lifted his hips when Sean tugged him up, and grunted into the next thrust; he was already close, Holden's dreams having been a mix of the night before and the things he'd read in some of the books during his impromptu vacation, and it wasn't going to take long.

Then Sean pulled out and shoved at Holden until the man was on his back, and thrust in again. It earned Sean a loud moan, half-lidded eyes locked on his, and Holden wrapped his legs around Sean's back, glad for the change in position when Sean leaned in for a kiss.

The headboard banged against the wall with the next thrust, which made Holden laugh; he sat up, using one hand on Sean's neck for leverage as he moved, and kissed Sean again, tongue sliding into Sean's mouth, and with a tug on his cock, Holden came.

Loose-limbed, Holden let Sean settle him onto the sheets again, and let out a particularly embarrassing moan when Sean thrust into him. "Come, baby," Holden told him, one hand over Sean's heart, "Come."

Sean did, slumping forward in the aftermath; he buried his face in Holden's neck, panting, and told Holden, "Love you."

"Love you too."

"Don't...don't expect me to say that often."

Holden laughed. "No problem."

"_Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning._"  
\- Anon -


End file.
